In One Basket
by eggandpotato
Summary: Some shin dig about Seimei and Soubi. I wasn't intending to post any of my work on here, because I still think my own work is garbage, but I'll let you decide. : It's not complete, and I took a break to go swim in the pool while writing this.


It was easy to forget Seimei was younger than Soubi, at times. With the way the ebon-haired youth exuded maturity to those around him, tried to escape adolescence at every turn, the uninformed might consider him an adult. There is a price to pay for such acts, however. When maturity is forced on to someone immature, seams will star t to tear apart under the stress. Seimei forced it on himself, and in doing so, exposed an unprepared heart to a world of cruelties he did not once know existed. It was an effortless battle for this darkness to invade him, consume his child-like behaviors and twist him into a nightmarish creature. Seimei found pleasure in things most adults learned to bypass as they grew normally. Unlike them, he was no subjected to the same training. And so, it would prove to be unimaginably difficult for Seimei to love anyone in anyway other than how a torturer loves his victims.

Soubi was not unfamiliar ground to the boy. He too grew up faster than others. Unlike Seimei, he wasn't as lucky as to make his own decision about when he chose to develop. Someone else's desires got the best of him. Forked as the fighter's and sacrifice's roads may be, this path would merge further along, regardless. Soubi was hardened in only the way abuse can harden an individual. His sensations live, but live painfully cut off from life. He couldn't imagine direction unless pointed in one. If Soubi was to exist, he had to exist through another. Soubi would have to live in perpetual servitude. Should one controller leave, he'd suffer an unimaginable drought of volition. If he could not find another in time, Soubi might die. And because of this, he could not be part of the real world. He could watch it from the outside and gain insight that most would miss while in the thick of it. Yet, any wisdom or guidance he might contain would never be for himself -- and so, while knowing of the world and what is looming just outside the front door, he would remain stunted.

The two would be destined for each other. Seimei desperate to dominate, and Soubi seething with an urge to be taken. But even in some of the most shaded corners of this world, light might sneak in and erase whatever poisons the shadows had blanketed the ground with. Because Seimei was in fact still a youth, and Soubi not a great deal older, they would be troubled with unavoidable fates. In the times where they share experiences with people the same age, both could be considered human again, falling prey to their weaknesses which would find a way to make even bad things seem good.

Now, in the bustling city, even giants could feel overwhelmed with the endless swarms of perspiring flesh and restless commotion. How could Seimei hope to feel secure with the filth all around him, with the odds of being trampled spiking every half-beat of the heart? What a waste to come when he had to belittle himself in order to survive. Or at least, that's what Seimei would tell himself. Soubi, equally in danger, would do nothing to show his fears. Instead, slack at his side, his hand would cling to Seimei's. Pale skin on pale skin, the two were a ghostly mirage, winding their way through the crowds as unknowingly as the steam clouds rising from the sewer grating. Soubi, taller, almost the height of a full-grown man by now, was a watch tower. He could scout further, plan destinations, and avoid incoming traffic. Soubi would be Seimei's leader for the time being, but never take advantage of it. Disliking his own voice in a commanding manner, Soubi wouldn't even speak. All his advice would be relayed to the sacrifice through twitches of the eye, a nodding of the head, a swaying of blonde duck fluff.

The grimace on Seimei's face was enough to make Soubi smile, though he didn't dare do it. It was best not to tease Seimei when he was uncomfortable, or at least, not so enveloped by a society he despised. Yet, when Seimei was too busy dodging an incoming pedestrian, and Soubi had been prepared enough to maneuver without having to look, he would turn his gaze to his companion and take snapshots with his memory faster than a fashion photographer. In person, Seimei was the most stunning creature Soubi could ever lay eyes on. In his mind, Seimei was the most powerful God to ever grace Soubi's presence.

In the heat of the day, Soubi could feel his own hair weighed down by humidity and sweat. When strands moved, they did so begrudgingly. When he could, Soubi would compare his hair to Seimei's, one of his favorite pastimes. He knew, even through their cunning use of black stealth, they were as exhausted as his own. The tips which curled uncontrollably were currently resting, unwound on his shoulders. Earlier, after some pressuring, Soubi had convinced Seimei to take off his heavier outer-wear, and now he wore a form-fitting black shirt. The neckline was cut a tad lower, and his clavicles protruded enough so that they could suck in the sun's rays to synthesize whatever it was they needed – most certainly not a tan, as far Soubi could tell. Despite knowing that touching him in public made Seimei flustered, Soubi often tried his best to sneak at least one flutter across the boy's epidermis with the pads of his finger tips, if he could.

Using the environment to his advantage, Soubi waited for a businessman to come rushing towards them, phone in one ear, eyes at his wrist watch on the opposing arm. Seimei could avoid him, but Soubi feigned otherwise, and wrapped an arm around the sacrifice. Pouncing at the collar bones bathing in the luminance, Soubi's fingers prodded them, inspecting, trying to draw a gasp or shiver in response. The nails dug at the flesh that hooked inward along the bone, as if trying to get underneath. When Seimei's hand tightened around Soubi's, the temperature and pressure forging diamonds in their grasp, Soubi yanked him into his body and entombed him within the length of his arms. It was hot, and even hotter now with their forms meshed together, but Seimei's panting didn't come from the heat and Soubi knew it. Seimei had abandoned pressing palms together with his fighter to complete an embrace, his own arms coiled around Soubi's waistline.

The two walked like that for some time, Seimei breathing fire into Soubi's hip every time the fighter tickled the antennae hairs sticking up from Seimei's feline ears. Soubi's lower back felt like shuddering at every exhale, but through perseverance and an intimate power over deciding what his body showed and didn't show, he kept it at bay. Instead, he continued to massage Seimei's scalp, orbiting it, ensuring he left nothing unattended for too long.

Seimei dug his cheekbone into Soubi's side, his eyes battling to stay open. Soubi was being cruel, doing this to him in such an open area, with people all around. However, no one noticed, no one cared to notice. There were far more erotic acts taking place, from what Seimei had seen. While trying to keep his mind off of Soubi so that he could suppress urges he couldn't afford to have showing in public, he had glanced into the side alleys and corridors between stores and apartment flats. It seemed almost reliable to assume that there would be at least one duet in every lane. Some were violent, ravaging, forced into positions clearly uncomfortable but enduring anyway. Others were quiet, tame, 

almost undetectable aside from a dropping jaw or tightening of a limb around another's figure. Seimei had zero attraction to the acts, the idea of doing something that intimate in such a location, covered in grime, garbage, probably even feces, repulsing him. He knew not if this was so common that no one wanted to see, or if he was more observant than every other busy bug in the streets. The couples were poorly concealed, so it couldn't be the latter.

Seimei then began to wander, his eyes glazing over, Soubi's treatment forcing his thoughts to continue on the topic. He wondered if one group was a pair, walking to the store, or from the store, who were just holding hands like he and Soubi were earlier. Then, overcome with a sudden bestial need for one another, catching the glint in the others' eyes in a brief side glance, stepped off to please the other. Was this even for pleasure? It was more likely to be for money, the women who had to give up something as sacred as their body to survive. Seimei couldn't fathom it, having to do such a thing, and refused to believe it was even an option, and was more a sick fantasy that the person had lost in them that they used funds as an excuse to fuel. When Seimei began to feel disgusted, a stroke between his cat ears destroyed his train of thought, and reminded him of where he was. Seimei tried to discover if Soubi knew what he was thinking about, whether he was watching him, whether he cared. When Soubi looked down at him, his eyes half-closing behind the lenses of his glasses, and the corners of his lips permitting a smile to curve them, Seimei retreated his vision and looked at their feet as they shuffled along in unmanaged strides. He blushed, deeply, and used the veil of his hair to mask it. It would be a dead give-away to Soubi, though, as he understood exactly what this motion meant.


End file.
